


Unfortunate Happenings

by TrappedInSonder



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Bodyswap, Geralt and Jaskier swap bodies, Geralt gets mad, Jaskier gets into trouble, Jaskier is a whore, Jaskier is fairly weak, Lighthearted Fic, M/M, Mages, Our boys, Punishment, Training, Witchers Have Feelings (The Witcher)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:27:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23614474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrappedInSonder/pseuds/TrappedInSonder
Summary: “Ger-OW! Geralt, Come on! That hurts, Geralt!”Jaskier yelped, grasping at the other’s wrist as he was dragged from the Mage’s small hut by the ear. He looked up at himself in shock, a disgusted look forming at how Geralt’s usual stony countenance contorted the Bard’s usually soft features. He yanked his head back, eyes catching at long desaturated tresses as they cascaded over his shoulders. Having long hair was such an odd sensation.“Hey! Don’t scowl in my body! You’ll give me wrinkles!”
Kudos: 20





	Unfortunate Happenings

**Author's Note:**

> Hi lovelies! Thank you for reading! This fic was a commission from my twitter https://twitter.com/WriterVellichor! I was given permission to post it here!

“Ger-OW! Geralt, Come on! That hurts, Geralt!”

Jaskier yelped, grasping at the other’s wrist as he was dragged from the Mage’s small hut by the ear. He looked up at himself in shock, a disgusted look forming at how Geralt’s usual stony countenance contorted the Bard’s usually soft features. He yanked his head back, eyes catching at long desaturated tresses as they cascaded over his shoulders. Having long hair was such an odd sensation.  
“Hey! Don’t scowl in my body! You’ll give me wrinkles!”  
Jaskier-...Well, Geralt’s calloused fingers raised to rub at the tip of his ear, where the other’s trimmed nails had dug into the sensitive flesh there. The other stood before him, arms crossed over his chest tightly, crushing and wrinkling the silk of his clothes. Expensive clothes may Jaskier add. His expensive clothes. 

“Oh, you’ve done it now, haven’t you Jaskier!”   
Geralt snapped, flinching as his words were spoken in Jaskier’s usually soft tone, now edged by anger. It wasn’t the same as the deep growl he usually possessed, and he found it strange how he could miss something like his own voice. Being angry in the other’s body felt wrong, as if he was soiling him with his own darkness.  
He’d have to try and calm down.   
“You had to fuck the Mage’s son, huh? You just had to?”

“He asked me to! It’s not my fault if he couldn’t resist my charm!” 

Jaskier shuffled as he stood straight, looking at the slightly smaller male now. The thick armour was heavy on his body, making him roll his shoulders at the unusual weight. Not that Geralt’s body wasn’t strong enough to support it, of course. It was just a wild change from his usual soft garments. He missed them. Their soft embrace, the weightlessness of their fabric. He didn’t like this armour at all.  
“Some restraint wouldn’t have gone amiss! We have a contract today, Jaskier! I’m supposed to hunt down an Alghoul! How am I supposed to do that if I’m in your body?!”   
“I don’t know! Oh, Melitele’s tits, this is bad!” Jaskier wailed, eyes flicking across the land frantically, his own mind running rings around itself. Geralt’s body was so responsive that he could barely keep up, smelling scents of pastries and bread from the town nearby, meanwhile, his ears picked out the idle chatter of the townspeople as if they were right beside him. Jaskier shuffled on his feet nervously, swaying his body as his fingers moved to gently rub together. A nervous tick he had picked up on. It was then that Geralt had the idea, and a sly smirk slipped onto his features. He moved closer to his own body, reaching behind him to draw the two swords, faltering a little at the weight. He knew Jaskier was nothing compared to his enhanced body but-...perhaps it would do training his body some good. While he had it at least. 

“You’re just going to have to kill it, aren’t you?” 

At the notion, Jaskier looked horrified. He stared at the other dumbfoundedly, as if he expected it to be some sort of joke, though the other didn’t seem to be joking. Panic really set in when the silver sword was thrust into his grasp.  
“Are you quite mad?!” The frightened shriek made Geralt wince. That was his voice Jaskier was abusing. 

“We don’t have another choice. Here, hold it like this.” Geralt shifted his grasp on the steel sword to show the other, and Jaskier hesitantly copied him before suddenly shaking his head, lowering the sword before him to point at the ground.  
“There has to be some other way! Can’t you cancel the contract? Say you’re unwell?” 

Though Geralt wasn’t listening. Instead, he just swung his sword at the other, satisfied with the clang as Jaskier raised his own sword to meet it. He stumbled back a little from the force, Jaskier’s smaller frame unfamiliar to him.   
“Alright, Good. Again.”   
“Geralt-!” Jaskier squeaked as he swung again, and again, Jaskier trying his best to defend himself, and not doing too bad. Not nearly as good enough as Geralt would like, but not as bad as he had originally anticipated. Perhaps his own senses were helping the other a little.   
“Alghouls are notorious for falling into a blind rage when injured so you’re going to have to be fast!” Geralt swung and Jaskier yelped, jumping away and stumbling back onto his-...Geralt’s ass. He looked up at the other who was standing over him now, forearms rested atop the hilt of the sword as the point dug into the ground, propping up the bard’s slender frame. And he had a shit-eating grin. Jaskier figured the other was enjoying this a little too much. That irritated him, and he got to his feet, grasping his sword tightly. And Geralt quickly got back into his stance. 

They continued to train for a few hours until Jaskier’s body was worn out and Geralt had decided to stop.  
“It’s no years of experience but it should be enough to keep you alive, Jaskier. This is your punishment, by the way.” Geralt grumbled as he raised his aching arm to rub the sweat from his forehead, panting gently. Jaskier too was panting but was noticeably less tired.  
“Doing a contract that could possibly kill me is my punishment?!” Jaskier snapped, watching the other with a sharp citrine gaze, approaching him and slipping the sword back into its sheath with a small bit of struggle. It was a difficult angle, on his shoulder. He walked over and sat beside Geralt, who was stretching and rolling his shoulders, willing the other’s inexperienced body to relax after such intense use.   
“How long do you think we’ll be like this?” Jaskier asked quietly, tilting his head gently.   
“Not that being in your body isn’t an invigorating experience, but I think I’d like my hands back.”  
“We’ll have to go and see Yen.” Geralt grumbled in response, reaching over to fiddle with his armour, shifting it back into place so it would be more comfortable for the other. He snorted gently as the dismayed noise the other let out.   
“Geralt, Do not and I repeat, do not do anything unsightly with her in my body! I will shackle you to my wrist if I must!”   
“You have my word, Jaskier. Though I don’t think Yennefer is attracted to pimply assed Bards, so I think we’re in the clear.”


End file.
